Roland DeForrest - The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey

“Do I have any choice?”

“Do not be impertinent,” he barked.

She reached deep for a subservient smile. “I do not mean to be. This is all so new. Forgive me. Of course I agree to any rule you stipulate. You are the boss, no?”

“That is correct.” He stood and called out loudly, “Kolina, come in here at once.”

Shortly an inner door opened and the girl stepped into the room, a defiant pout on her enchanting face. Almost arrogantly, she eyed Honey as he introduced them. Honey smiled warmly and greeted her with, “ Enchanté .” The girl mumbled the same and, as if bored already, stared out the window to the sparkling blue waves.

“ Ma cher ,” he said quietly to her, “you must be respectful of your new teacher and try very hard to be a good girl.”

Kolina replied angrily, “But why must I study French? I can understand every stupid thing you say.”

“Silence,” he ordered, and stared her down with his cold eyes. “Do not forget your breeding, or your punishment if you fail to live up to my expectations.”

“How could I forget?” she wailed. “You won’t let me. Ever .”

He smiled apologetically at Honey. “See? She is a very spirited, high-strung girl. You will have your hands full.” With that, Bouscaral called in one of the guards and strode out of the room. The younger of the guards, a pasty-faced bulldog of a man, stood against the open door with his arms folded across his barrel chest.

Honey smiled again at Kolina. “We will be good friends very soon, I just know.”

“How do you know?” the girl shot back. “You won’t last a week. Henri will send you away like all the others.”

“There have been others before me?”

“No personal questions,” the guard growled.

“Pardon,” Honey mumbled, and returned her attention to the lovely young blonde. The girl was obviously under great stress; dark circles underlined her large blue eyes like dirty thumbprints on the fair skin, and she had a nervous habit of running a hand through her hair, sweeping it back from her brow continually. Honey sat on the edge of the desk. “How many years of French have you had?”

“Six,” Kolina snorted. “I know more than enough, but Henri wants me to be busy all the time with meaningless tasks.”

“You speak it very well,” Honey praised. “Your accent is lovely.”

“ Merci ,” the girl replied with some surprise, and began studying her new teacher with a different attitude. “May I call you Claudine?”

“But of course, Kolina. Let us begin with some simple conjugations…”

With a bored, put-upon sigh, the girl began her first lesson.

In the isolated but beautiful location, the following days blended together into a dreary sameness for Honey. Twice a day she met with Kolina under the ever-watchful eye of one of the guards, or sometimes that of Henri himself. For those two-hour sessions, Honey drilled and tested the girl, working her hard but with gentle persistence. Honey discovered that Kolina was an extremely bright and capable young woman, with an inquisitive mind. It took several sessions before Kolina began to trust that Honey was not merely an extension of the authoritarian Henri. Gradually the girl’s sullen wariness began slipping away, to be replaced by an openly expressed fondness and dependency. Honey, however, maintained a professional though warm distance, not wanting to raise Henri’s suspicions that she was usurping his domain. She knew she was being watched carefully at all times, and made no attempts at getting the girl off alone.

Nights were the longest for Honey, who would retire to her bungalow alone. She worried about Dirk and feared he would be crazed with anxiety from not hearing anything. There was no telephone at the compound, and the only times she was allowed to go into the town of Papeete for toiletries or a bit of shopping, she was always accompanied by one of the guards, so her chances of slipping away to send a cable or mail a letter were nonexistent. She thought of many alternate ways of notifying her brother, but discarded each as too risky. Her meals were taken either alone or with the rest of the traveling entourage of servants. She kept to herself, speaking to no one unless she was first spoken to.

Then, on the afternoon of the fifth day, she found a logical way to get Kolina alone. The compound had several modern facilities, including a sauna. Honey had been allowed to use it by herself once in a while, but it wasn’t until she saw Henri driving off with one of the guards that she knew her chance had finally arrived. She waited until she and Kolina were a half hour into their session before suggesting that they take a sauna together and continue the lesson there. At once Kolina agreed to the idea, and as they approached the sauna room, she saucily told the guard to get lost. He pointed out that he was not to leave them alone, and Kolina became quite angry with him. “Am I to tell Henri you insisted on seeing the two of us naked?”

The guard grew flustered, not knowing how to respond. Honey took the opportunity to push Kolina into the small dressing room off the sauna, where she firmly closed the door in the startled guard’s face. Kolina immediately shed her clothes as if they were contaminated, and stood in all her nude glory for Honey’s approval. Long-legged, high-hipped, the girl possessed large, beautifully formed breasts. Delicately tipped with small pink nipples, they looked oddly out of place on the girl’s otherwise lissome body. The soft patch of blonde hair between her legs was like a small pillow of color on her pale, fair skin.

Honey tore away her gaze, not wanting to embarrass the girl. “You are truly lovely, Kolina,” she murmured in French, and began unhooking her own brassiere. Her large breasts tumbled free, and she noted the girl’s eyes growing wide with astonishment and envy.

“Why do you wear such a small bra?” Kolina asked ingenuously. “If I had big breasts like yours, I wouldn’t wear a bra at all.”

“I usually don’t,” Honey admitted, and stepped out of her skirt.

“So why do you now?” the girl persisted.

“Because I don’t like the way the guards look at me.”

“Those pigs,” Kolina muttered with an angry glance at the closed door to the hall. “Honestly, they give me the creeps sometimes.”

Honey nodded. “Me too.” She tugged down her panties and again noted that Kolina was staring, this time open-mouthed.

“Why do you shave your thing?” the girl asked boldly.

Honey laughed, running a hand over the hairless mound between her alabaster thighs. “I like the sensation.”

“What’s it feel like?”

“Smooth. Try it. It’s all right. I don’t mind.”

Hesitantly the girl reached out a hand and stroked the area, sending a shiver of delight up Honey’s spine. Kolina locked eyes with her and whispered, “Would you shave mine for me?”

“If you want, but are you sure your uncle would approve?”

Instead of replying, Kolina withdrew her hand and, growing pensive, opened the interior door to the sauna, holding it for Honey to enter first. Inside, the dry, hot heat was a refreshing change from the sticky tropical humidity. Silently they stretched out together on a thick towel thrown over the wooden slat bench. For a long while, neither spoke. Finally Kolina whispered, “He’s not my uncle.”

“I know.”

Kolina propped herself up on one elbow. “You do? How?”

Honey rolled toward her, whispering, “Remember the photographer in Central Park-the tall young man with the friendly eyes? The one you recently saw again at the Jockey Club?”

Kolina nodded, holding her breath. Honey brushed a lock of the girl’s white-blonde hair off her face. “That’s my brother, Dirk.”